


Marilith

by Septembre_Rain (Zyrielle)



Series: Daemons [1]
Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Death, Human Experimentation, Loss of Limbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-29
Updated: 2019-06-29
Packaged: 2020-05-29 18:12:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19405537
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zyrielle/pseuds/Septembre_Rain
Summary: She wasn’t born a daemon.She didn’t want to become one either.





	Marilith

**Legs.**

She remembers having them.

She remembers running through fields and riding a her bicycle, running with a dog and falling, scraping her knees on the roots of an old willow behind her house.

She remembers outrunning her dad and promising that someday, she'll be able to run so fast that he'll never catch her. And he hasn't. Not eversince--

She misses having legs. The day they took them away was one of the worst days of her life.

She wants them back. Even if they were bloody and scraped at the knees. Even if her bones and ankles were broken and her thighs ridden with bullet holes like the day they had caught her. She just wanted them back.

**Skin and Hair.**

She remembers flaxen hair, just like her mum's. She had Dad's curls and green eyes and nose but her hair color and smile was from Mum. She loved it. She was golden like the giant birds that sometimes she sees people riding when they pass by her street.

Her skin was once warm, freckled and tainted by the sun. Golden brown speckles just like her father's and Aunt Kat's.

She liked running her fingers through everything: bushes, fences, walls, grass, her dog's scraggly fur, the rocks and the water river that ran through the fields that the wild beasts liked to wade in and drink from. 

Her hair started falling out when they gave her the injections. They made her sick and she'd always pass out. She'd lost count of the days and wonders how she's still alive considering she hadn't been able to eat, drink or keep anything down when she did. She'd woken up to find needles and tubes inserted in her skin which had turned grey and her hair all gone. She cried until she passed out.

The new hair that grew from her head was a disgusting inky green color, like the muck at the bottom of a pond. The only thing she could touch here were cold lifeless walls and sterile sheets. Even her skin didn't feel warm anymore.

They kept giving her injections and all over again she felt like she would die from the pain. She woke up to find limbs attached to her body that weren't her own, or at least they weren't originally hers. She'd panicked herself into a cardiac arrest and they had to revive her twice.

She tried to cut them off, but when she woke up, they were good as new. Always good as new. No matter how bad she mangled herself.

This body, everything, she hated it.

In her last moments of life she would remember the touch of the sun and the feel of warmth on her skin and fingertips, the golden rays of the sun, so much like her mum's hair-their hair, and the freckles and wrinkles on her father's face as he smiled.

**Family.**

Mum's hugs were always soft, warm and comforting. Dad's arms were safe, strong and reliable. They've always been there for her. And one day, they would welcome her baby brother or sister when the time came. Rushing wouldn't help, mum told her.

Dad often came home smelling of sweat and dirt. A consequence of working in the fields, and Mum would shoo him off to the bathroom for a shower. Mum always smelled of home: burnt sugar, flowers and fabric softener. Mum always had something ready to eat when she and dad came home, her from school and dad from the farm.

On the day that Dad told her to go home on her own because he wouldn't be able to pick her up, was the day she saw the flying metal ships. She ran home but never made it. She felt something go through her right leg followed by something sticky and warm, then her left ankle crunch under the boot of the metal men. Then it went all black.

She hopes and prays to the six gods that her parents are alright.

She used to wish that they were here with her, but after spending a few days here, she realized it was for the best that they weren't.

There were many of them, or at least, there used to be more of them.

She wishes she could remember their names. Even their faces were becoming a blur.

They'd held on to each other, after the injections, or whenever the pain became too great and all they could do was cry. They all had small hands, hands that were once warm as her own. Once.

As the weeks went by they grew less in number. Some of them stopped talking and could no longer look at each other in the eyes or even bare to touch each other. They were changing, though more of them were dying than adapting. It upset the men in the while coats, she could tell.

When the last one of them didn't come back and she was left all alone, she gave up.

They couldn't make her get up, drink or eat. Within the empty room that she used to share with at least twelve others, she willed herself to die. They inject her again and everything once more fades to black.

She wakes in episodes, unaware of how much time has passed in between. She doesn’t even know if the men in white coats or the metal men used to be so small. Weren't they bigger than her before? She doesn't remember enough to be sure. They were half her size now.

She is irritated by the dark strands growing out of her head and uses her swords to cut it off. Everything felt off. It felt like a constant itch underneath her skin. Everything was wrong. She starts attacking anyone and everyone that comes near her. She doesn't know them. Nothing is familiar and everything hurts. They keep her in shackles and a metal cage after that. 

Her memories become blurry scenes that don't make sense. The more they inject the more she forgets. Sometimes she's in a white room, behind a transparent barrier that she can't break. Sometimes it's dark and there's fire, a woman screams and a dark haired child that used to be as small as… like the children she couldn't remember. Who were they again? Then there were shimmering lights. They were so pretty, but they hurt whenever one of them touched her. Why did it hurt? She fell down a cliff that time, and she thought she would be able to get away, but the metal men found her and brought her back.

She's forgotten words and how to say or understand them. Her voice is no longer her own and she wasn't even surprised to find her eyes red. She thinks they may have been another color before, but doesn't know what they are. Neither is she surprised to find that she bleeds not red, but rather a viscous combination of purple and black, like the sludge that leaked from the metal men.

They let her out once more, dropping her metal cage from a height, rattling her and igniting her fury. She slithers out of her metal container and sees that it's daytime and they're on a clearing. There's already a lot of metal soldiers littered around. She doesn't hesitate to knock down all that stand in her way. They were all enemies after all.

Then something-or rather, someone charges against her. It's not a metal soldier. It’s a human clad in black that seems somewhat familiar, but when she tries to place him, a sharp pain stabs her brain and her hearing fades to static. She doesn't know who he is, but he is charging at her and what he is doing hurts. So she raises her swords, all six of them, and attacks.

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Later as she's sinking, staring at the sun from beneath the salty depths of the sea, she sees her parents. She reaches out her arms and is delighted to see that she only has two. She looks down and sees that her legs are back, smooth and unbroken. She is golden and can feel the warmth once again. The others, the small ones with her in the chambers filled with cold and dark are just beyond the light. She can hear their voices, and if she just squinted or moved closer she could- 

\+ + + + + + + + + + +


End file.
